Twenty-nine-Seven

It was one of those dreams you don’t really remember when you wake. That confused feeling is all you’re left with. You wake up fighting with sheets that have tangled themselves around your limbs.

It was magical… I think.

Mystical… maybe?

And I know I wasn’t alone in it all.

 

I woke with a start just minutes after falling asleep, feeling like I was being held under and drowning still. But before I could comprehend anything fully, the magic pulled me back in and greedily I succumbed… fully, never once looking back.

To say it was the most peaceful sleep would be to lie. Newborn babies have more restful nights than I had. But I would do it all over in a heartbeat.

Just Call Me Um… from Umbridge

I’ve been told countless times that I have a talent (not trying to float my own boat here, but often I’m just too stubborn to hear it… but so what? If after reading anything I’ve ever written you believe there is a smidge of talent spread before your eyes in the words I spew, please feel free to let me know. And if you disagree please don’t hide your feelings from me).

(Un)fortunately that talent has not been rusting away. For the past few years I have participated in NaNoWriMo, so this year I’ve decided on early practice sessions… and what you ask are those? The best kind of practice for such a daunting adventure (please get your mind out of the gutter) I’m talking about SLEEP baby… and plenty of it. My aim is to get enough now so that when I’m able to peel my too tight Halloween Mumu/ costume from my dance-tired body, I’ll forfeit sleep for the next 30 days after, writing to my little heart’s content.

I plan on devouring as much caffeine in as many forms as I can get it, and fruit to sustain my energy along with many pastry type foods & I promise to try my best at being an optimist in those days... but I might fail from the get-go.

On a different note: guess who I want to be this year for Halloween?  Check the title of this post for clues.

Thank you for reading this rant, I’ll try to post on my progress often if not at all.

Your favourite dooms-day-cookie, Pessimist

Um from Umbridge (Nj In Wonderland)

Down the Rabbit Hole

Like a deck of cards, this house is falling apart.

The queen of hearts is calling for my head on a silver platter.

I think she knows the knave of hearts has stolen my heart and I might have poisoned the jam tarts, because this is just a fly-by-night romance waiting to fizzle out & this plan B is to save my baby Jabberwocky.

Wash Away Nightmare

The water pounds my neck & back.

Bubbles & suds collect above the drain grate and breathing becomes easier as steam emits off reddened skin.

We wash away the grime of a day & with it all the bad memories the day brought on & hope the good memories linger to turn themselves into glorious dreams later on.

No Love Lost Here

The Gods of Thunder & Lightning are at it again. He yells, she screams.

And I like it, not the yelling and screaming part of course, I’m not that cold… but I do like the love between them.

You see the way it works is that they’re ‘fighting the love in’. They truly do care for each other dearly and in the end fighting is just another form of foreplay, right?

The first time jitters

Your finger lingers, touching the sensitive skin of my belly. Your hand moved smoothly over the bumps of my ribs. Your fingers splayed freely over my goose-pimpled flesh. I was scared, but who wouldn’t be?

Being this free with you was damn intimidating. I’m sure I shivered, but the gentleman in you just didn’t acknowledge that.

Your devilish eyes played over every inch of my nakedness. And when you peeled my hands back to see me, I sent out a silent “Thank you” to the heavens that you wanted to see me like this.

The Pool

Child-like footprints, bloodied & sparse, leading the way like breadcrumbs to a darkened corner where she sits huddled against the darkness where she feels the walls closing in on her.

The sticky crimson marks her face as it drenches her hands, while her blackened eye acts as more than just a reason… an excuse… a way out.

But the red pool beckons inviting her into its sinful depths.

And all you long for is the embrace of a lost love to feel the imagined arms encircle you, to have the cold dank emptiness dissolve into blackness…

Hello, it’s Mickey calling

Have we all forgotten what humanity is all about? The person behind that mask is still a person, with a heartbeat and blood that spills from veins. Rules and regulations govern our lives and we lean closer to robotronics than ever before. Our world is run by technology and we often forget to breathe without the beep of an incoming message to tell us how.

Mindless

A nerve you’ve got, to create pain in this way. An apple to peel for a salad filled with half truths; a book of secrets that you’ve already read to me; a life together that we’ll spend apart; a tear in the ocean, a penny in a fountain, a drop in a lake. A you and a me…

Vowels

A second hand “I’m sorry” from a girl with a frozen heart, takes longer as she stammers out a word or two, falters with the sense of a sentence and stutters after every “I.O.U”

Sleep with me

Inspiration is fleeting, once again.

 I’m counting sheep because I can’t sleep, because my dreams are plagued with thoughts of you.

Do polar opposites attract?

I’m the ocean (rough, calming & frightening)

And you’re my moon, pulling me close as I push away.

Uno, dos, tres, vier, vyf, ses, seven ate nine; I’m sure she was divine. I’ve plucked the 10^th sheep from my mind, sheared the fluffed up wool to keep you warm out there in the sky.

The Tower Urchin

“The sea it calls to me,

It welcomes me,

It might just be the death of me;

It’s warm when it’s cold & never lets us go…”

So let’s turn the tarot cards & find a little bliss for our starry eyed pair.

In Flock Formation

We’re all vying for ‘Top Dog’ position,

Slamming into brick walls,

Closed ears spewing lyrics from has-been’s.

We came to a world that was too big,

With little spaces in between,

But now we’re left to fly south on our own.

The moon our beacon light,

The sun just a bit too bright-

I’m reaching out to find my shades, my eyes too weak to see the blades your accusations are slinging my way.

They’re throwing up seeds;

It’s gritty, it’s grainy… it is sand.

I peck at your hand;

It’s fuzzy, it’s feathery…

It’s blood stained.

We leave to always come back,

If only just to test our wings

In flight to be the migratory leader;

The hive-brained enforcer.

We spread our wings in flight

Keeping the V-formation as best we can

Hoping no harm comes to find us…

Exit Door

I’ve changed: I feel it in every sinew.

Things that once made me happy now have no effect on me.

It’s been months. We were inseparable… you & me… me & you. You loomed & I burrowed closer. You crashed & I drank you in. I functioned for so long without you, Ii don’t know how to continue on with you.

I’m not the same person who left you behind with subtle promises of forever staying in touch & silly teenage dreams of how we’ll be when I return to find you waiting patiently.

Purple Skies

Gotta make a living somehow.
Eternal sleep is not an option without eternal life.
The order of life is to live, throughout the cycle there is a foreward moving motion.
Blink yourself awake & dream up a graceful day filled with laughter & without regret. (The stand-still point will be regret)
When skies get rough I pray we never hide from life's storms, but see the day through: (perpetuate the motion of forth without having to rush into what we're not ready for)

Divine

Mistakes!
Was this all a mistake?
Did I let my guard down for too long?
Did you creep inside my heart?
Was it all a Dream?

The questions abound, sprouting from shoots to form buds on branches. But I am still asleep and Those branches are wrapping around my form and the tree limbed questions are consuming me without end. I want to break free, Freddie, but I'm trapped by my own answerless ways.

My muscles work relentlessly too break the crippling tree-hold. It seems all is lost. Brfore I can be fully consumed my mind drifts sleepily toward him. Here. There. Everywhere. Nowhere.
But it's too late to call after him. My heart yearns for him.

Leaves begin to grow from the tips of my earlobes, my fingers feel wooden and a strong taste of sweet maple syrup lingers on my tongue.
My heart thumps and thuds, I feel it throughout my oaken body.

 I am now the living tree. Divine.
I hear a pretty melody clear and serene.

I know he is there, before the bird has the chance to give away that secret with silence, I know it. My rooted feet want nothing more than to leap toward him. I don't see him... or hear him. But his presence is strong.
My head thinks it is a trick, but my heart knows the truth... always has.

He prunes and shears back my wayward leaves so that my eyes can meet his again. In his eyes I see me; leaf-less, fleshy and exuding life as I was always meant to.

I am Divine, the Living Tree.

Memory Lane

Don't lead me down Memory Lane.
It's a scary place.
You know those horror stories they tell kids, the ones that keep them awake at night?
 The ones about clowns in the closet & the boogey man beneath the bed?
They are the ones that inhabit memory lane, not me.
Don't take me down memory lane, it's a scary place...

Dream Aloud

There's a dizziness in my brain.
 A shrieking in my veins.
 A shattering of a thousand butterfly wings falling with the rain.
Breathe fire into my de-oxygenated heart.
 My flesh smarts.
Petals strewn leading me closer home.

sunken Promise

If the Black Plague were to threaten our home
Would you flee...
Run away...
Screaming... for the hills?

I promise to stay
Nursing the love we've created and promising to never leave:
"We'll live forever, you'll see. Just you and me... to the end of time or the time of our end...
which ever comes first

Emergency Exit

I'm not sure where the future will one day lead.
I'm not sure if I'll live to see.
I just know that this is not for me.

For years I've been trying to find the words to say "Goodbye".
"So Long" seems final and "Farewell" full of sadness.
Nothing seems to roll off the tongue with ease.

Can you have a feeling of promise while shedding hope?

I've heard that ignorance is bliss, but shouldn't bliss be the melding of two passions and ...release?

To the Bottom of the Sunken Well I promised You the World

I sit here making notes
And I already know time is flying by
And I'm still here but soon you'll be gone.

Let's not stress about tomorrow,
Let's just live with today.
Let's throw those regrets out of the window and send the alarm clock out too.
Let's make a vow of forever and skip out on it tomorrow.
Let's never promise to change... the inevitability will surely catch us by surprise.

And we'll rise to the occassions: hearts sewn on sleeves as the earth welcomes the fallen leaves.

The Little Things

Those things he loved that I would never do for him...
 I do them for you now, but you'll never know because you don't notice them
 because you don't realise that I'm there- just an outstretched hand away...
waiting for you to pull me in with just a little thing you think I haven't yet noticed.

I cherish the golden nuggets you send my way,
 hoping beyond hope that you're dishing them in hopes that I'd be able to take the hint...
 I do... if you do...
I will... if you will...

The Prisoner

“Bitch,” he smirked as I pressed my cold hand to my newest bruise. My cheek burned, even my tears couldn’t stop the fire his hand had created.

“They had better pay the ransom,” I know it would be better if I didn’t answer or suffer worse beatings. He thinks they’ll pay but I know better. My brother once said, just after our parents’ passing, that no matter how much a ransom was the hostage would never survive: “So why waste valuable money?”

So I sit on an old wooden chair with my ankles tied to the rickety legs, my hand on my cheek trying to soothe the inflamed skin, my tears streaming, my hair messed, my lip swollen and cut and my mouth shut, knowing no ransom would be paid. I will never make it home alive.

I know what you’re thinking right now: “Don’t give up hope.” But how can I have hope now if I never had any going into this.

“Who is this sadistic bastard? Is he some small time crook who saw an opportunity?” What would a small time criminal want with a trust-fund-baby, well twenty-something? Nope, not small time, he planned out the attack, just like you see on TV. But he miscalculated one thing: Big brother could care less about always-get-your-ass-in-some-sort-of-trouble-little-sister (his words not mine).

So you see there never was any point for hope.

I can feel the effects of the last dosage of drugs wearing off. I hear the sound of his footsteps echoing in the distance. Alone ...again.

---

I hate how time just stands still and rushes by all at once. What I am trying to say is: How long have I been here now? It feels like years, but he hasn’t been back yet.

A few hours ago my captor had me sit in front of a video camera, holding today’s newspaper. I had to state the date and time clearly, apparently this is how you force money out of stingy rich people; you barter for it with someone’s life.

I was on camera and for the first time in my life I was told not to fix my hair or to add another coat of gloss.

---

He’d said he’d give them 48 hours but I see his patience wearing thin. I really couldn’t guarantee he’d get the money so I didn’t try begging for him to let me go because I had nothing he wanted.